Chance Encounters
by Aeralei
Summary: At a party, Bruce Wayne hears someone that sounds awfully familiar and becomes acquainted to. Beginnings of a Batflash-ship!


It was the laughter that drew me in.

So light-hearted, so care free.

So much like him .

The night had been filled with your typical rich snobs, trying to make themselves look better by donating sums of money, just to gloat about it to all their friends. Now, this tactic worked well, in favor for the nonprofits but it drove me UP. A. WALL. Don't get me wrong, I or "Bruce Wayne," do try and brag here and there, for appearances sake, but even I know when enough is enough. However, my so-called "acquaintances" are a different story. It was during one of these bragging sessions that I heard him.

"I just LOVEEEE giving back to the community," claimed the woman in a sparkly red dress that practically screamed fake money. After attaching herself to my arm at the beginning of the night, she had since NEVER left, probably in hopes I would sleep with her. Or give her money, both were fair game. She even brought along a few of her friends to help her cause.

For the life of me, I couldn't remember any of their names. Nor did I care.

"Really, Bruce, I-"

"Hahahaha."

The second I heard it, I completely tuned myself out of the conversation and began searching for the source of the laughter. After years of being the "World's Greatest Detective," it didn't take long.

There in the corner.

Without excusing myself, I promptly removed the woman from my arm (much to her dismay) and began to walk straight towards the source.

The room we were in was a large dining hall, with tables and chairs scattered everywhere, all facing towards the front stage. All of the major benefactors (myself included) had already spoken, so now people were mingling around and attempting conversations. Ultimately, everyone was ready for the night to be over.

In the back corner, near one of the buffet tables, stood a group of people, all in formal tuxedos and gowns. Well, all of them except for one. Sporting a head of messy red hair, the young man was wearing a faded black suit, that seemed to be a size too-big. Underneath was a blue button up and dark green tie. A cheshire smile was plastered on his face, lighting up his features. He seemed to have been trying to tell a joke to the others around him but they all left to mingle elsewhere. This didn't seem to phase the man, he just grabbed a large plate, filled it full of food and sat down at the nearest table.

I approached slowly, masking my presence to try and figure out a way to talk to the man.

It can't possibly be him.

The small ache of hope in my chest forced me to continue on, even just for curiosity's sake. I caught him mid-bite.

"I take it they didn't like your joke?"

The redhead jumped, causing him to momentarily choke on his food. I lightly slapped his back to help dislodge the culprit, before he waved me off and mumbled, "Thanks," under his breath. He then glanced up at me with bright green eyes that held a sort of innocent glow in them. They flickered with surprise and mild recognition before finally giving me a once over. The redhead swallowed and began to smile again.

"Hey, not my fault they can't appreciate a good pun. All I said did was hold up one of these tacos and said 'Let's TACObout something else!' and they left!"

I chuckled slightly at the younger man and pulled up another chair, crossing my arms across my chest.

"I haven't seen you around before."

"HA,that's because these things are above my pay grade," the redhead laughed. "I'm only here because of work and, of course, the free food!"

Looking down, I noticed there were about 10 tacos, 3 cheeseburgers and large mound of french fries all stacked precariously on top of one another. One glance at the young man's figure and all I could think was: where the hell does he put it all? Ever the detective, I decided to ask him some questions to get to know him.

"Work you say? I take it you work for the police department?"

It was the only logical explanation as we were raising money for new equipment for Central City's Police Department.

"Mmhmm," the man responded, mouth full of food again. I waited a few seconds for his mouth to clear, to avoid another choking incident, before continuing.

"What do you do there, Mr.-?"

"Ugh no Mr., just Wally, Wally West!" Wally said, extending out his free hand. "I'm a mechanic! Well, that's my day job, anyways. I, also, am interning as a forensic scientist!"

I shook his hand, taking note of how relaxed his was, in comparison to my firm grip. "Bruce Wayne"

"Oh trust me, I know who you are. You were JUST up on stage, plus I've seen some of your….ur…," Wally began rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed by what he was about to say. I smirked. Probably one my playboy magazines. Wally cleared his throat, attempting to change topics.

"Aren't you from Gotham? What, did you decide to take a vacation from the dark and gloomy capital of the world? Long haul, don't you think?"

"Nothing a private jet can't fix. I recently expanded Wayne Industries, purchased a building a few blocks down," I responded, giving him my cover excuse I had been telling all night.

A light bulb seemed to go off inside Wally's head, it practically lit his entire face. "OH YEAHHH! I pass by that place on my way to work. I've been wondering what they'd been building. I take it you're going to be in town more often?"

"Yes but I'll stay primarily in Gotham, commuting only a few times a week. I have purchased a penthouse nearby, as well."

Something I said seemed to bother the redhead, as his food suddenly became more interesting than me. I pondered this for a second. Based on his attire, he doesn't have much money. Probably lower-working class, not quite poverty with his job. Compared to my tuxedo and wealth, he is more than likely feeling a bit out of his element.

He must have been thinking the same thing, as he asked, "So…..why is a rich boy like you talking to a guy like me?"

I turned my head slightly, aware of the implications of his questions, but decided to play dumb and tease him. "What? Do you want me to leave you alone with your mountain of food?"

Tension ran through Wally's body, obviously concerned I was serious, before he noticed my smirk.

"Hey, I didn't say that! I MEAN, why aren't you with some of the other gorgeous rich people?" Wally asked, pointing in the general direction I had been, previously. I cocked my eyebrow up and gave him my signature "playboy" smile.

"Gorgeous, huh?"

The redhead began turning the shape of his hair and practically began spitting out, "That's not what I...Not that you're not! I just mean-!" before I took pity on the poor kid and gave him the answer he had been searching for.

"I was bored and needed an excuse to leave. I heard you laughing from across the room, you sounded like the only person ACTUALLY enjoying themselves at this party. We're not all rich snobs, you know?"

Wally turned his head to the side, seeming to process my words while inhaling his final cheeseburger.

"Look, Mr. Wayne-"

"Call me, Bruce"

"Ok, look, Bruce, I didn't mean that I thought you were a snob. Based on what I've seen and heard, you seem to genuinely care about helping and giving money to those that need it."

Momentarily stunned at Wally's words, I chose to remain silent and analyze Wally from the information I had gathered in the last few minutes. Wally's eyes kept flickering up nervously as he tried to focus on his tacos. After about 30 seconds, I asked, "I'm flattered, though I do wonder what you mean by the others?"

Wally began rubbing the back of his neck again ( seems to be his signature move when he's nervous or uncomfortable) before letting out a breath he had been holding in. Determination ran through his eyes ( probably more for his own sake than mine).

"When you have money, you don't have to worry about missing a meal or not being able to pay rent on time. You can do whatever you want with it, without suffering the repercussions. Events like this? They force the wealthier to give money towards things that actually matter, but it's never for the right reasons. I have spent most of my night watching people brag and go ON and ON about how they care SO much. And yet, I bet you they won't ever stop and talk to the people that needed the money. Maybe they think they're too good for it or afraid it would hurt their reputation. When you're like me and don't have any money to give, time is all you have. So you spend the time getting to know the people and help them directly, even if it's something small. Case and point: I have spent most of my night walking around, talking to people, telling them jokes, just to make them happy. For me? That's all I can give but I hope it's enough to show my gratitude," Wally began to smile again, all seriousness gone. "Especially for these french fries; here try one, Bruce!"

With that, Wally lifted his plate and shoved it in my direction, managing to spill several on me in the process. I chuckled as I munched on a few.

Smart kid, good observational skills. He seems more genuine than most of the people here combined. Though, he does seem to change subjects whenever things get serious or uncomfortable. I wonder what this kid's story is? Something to research later.

"For someone who's never been to one of these events before, you sure do have a strong opinion about it all.

"What can I say? I speak my mind!"

Before I could get another word out, I heard the sound of heels approaching from behind and groaned. The arm-leecher in the red dress was back.

"Oh thereeee you are, Brucie, I've been searching everywhereee for you. The host has asked all the donors to take a group photo, before people start leaving!" She shrilled in my ear, starting to drag me from my seat. Knowing fully well I needed to head with her, for appearances sake, I glanced back at Wally, apologetically. For a brief second, sadness shown in his emerald eyes before he tried masking it with a nonchalant shrug.

"See you around, Bruce." The sound in his voice held obvious doubt that we would meet again.

Turning away, my usually cold-heart began to ache, slightly, at what had just occurred. I wanted this to have been real, for it to have been him.

But that's impossible….

Because the Flash is dead .


End file.
